


Not Like A Prostitute

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Hallmark Movie, M/M, and even more fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel needs to bring someone to Christmas dinner, and Dean needs to show his family that he's not antisocial. They could be a benefit to each other. Based off of numerous Hallmark and ABC family movies with the same plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like a Prostitute?

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tis the season for Christmas fics! Written for a contest with my friend. Will be silly, ridiculous, and fluffy. Bear with me, it's gonna be great, I promise.

 

"Hey, honey," Castiel said cheerfully. For a few seconds, there was only distracted muttering at the other end of the line. Castiel tried to wait patiently. Fate, after all, had a big job as director of where-ever-she-worked (she had never actually filled Castiel in on the details) and was probably too busy to spare time with small talk. Even if it was small talk with her boyfriend.

Then there was a small, "Hey, Cas."

It was all Castiel needed. "Are we still on for dinner tonight? I was thinking--Oh, hold on, my brother's on the machine."

Castiel covered the phone with his hand and listened to the message being left. "Hey, Cassie! Listen, Mike wants to know if you're bringing that girlfriend home for Christmas. If she's even real, that is. Anyways, call back, or else."

Castiel sighed and turned his attention back to the phone. "Gabriel and Michael want to know--"

"Babe, I gotta go," Fate interrupted distractedly.

"But we just barely started talk--" the line went dead before he could finish his sentence. Castiel spent a few minutes wondering why he put up with her, until he remembered the millions of dollars that his family would approve of. It's only the rest of your life, Castiel reminded himself. It didn't help.

He picked the phone back up and dialed his home phone.

"Novak."

"Oh, hey, Michael," Castiel said.

"Gabriel's in the other room, if you want to talk to him."

"No, it's fine," Castiel said quickly. "One brother's as good as the other. So we're still doing the family holiday thing this year even after...?"

"Just because Lucifer is no longer with us doesn't mean we can't have a nice happy family gathering, does it?"

He made it sound like he was dead. Castiel supposed he might as well have been, as far as Michael was concerned. "Uh, no, I guess not," Castiel said carefully. "It's just that--"

"So you'll be bringing this 'Fate,' then?" Michael went on.

"Well, I'll have to ask her. She really is quite busy this time of year." Doing who knows what, he added silently.

"You should bring her," Michael suggested innocently. Although his words were nice enough, his tone was cold and hard. Castiel was to bring a girlfriend home this Christmas.

"O-of course, Michael. Well, I've got to--go, um, write things, so--"

"I'll see you next Friday, Castiel."

"Of course you will."

Castiel groaned and laid his head in his hands. "Go write things?" he muttered quietly to himself.

 ***

"--and that's why I'm totally, completely screwed over," Dean finished complaining. Benny smirked at him from across the table and took a long sip of coffee.

"Brother, I hate to say it, but maybe you shouldn't have lied to them."

Dean glared venomously. "You think I don't know that? But now Sam's got Jess all excited, and Dad's even woken up from his alcohol-induced haze to hear the news. I can't back out now."

"Well, you could always hire someone," Benny suggested, and Dean almost choked on his muffin.

"What, like a prostitute?" Dean whispered loudly. "Benny, are you crazy?"

"No, not like a prostitute." Benny sighed. "Like an actor."

"Well, thanks for the suggestion," Dean said, rolling his eyes, "But I think I've got this handled." He winked at the waitress as she walked by. Benny shook his head.

"Good luck with that, brother,"

Dean hummed in agreement distractedly and stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Benny," he said. Then, he went off in search of a girlfriend who would replace the imaginary "Lisa" in his head.

***

"Another refill, sir?"

Castiel looked up and began to nod, then shook his head as a second thought several times. "No, I think I'll just pay the bill now."

The waiter nodded sympathetically. "Of course, sir."

Castiel gazed out the window, wishing belatedly for Fate to call him. It had grown dark over the three hours Castiel had been waiting, the setting sun becoming a good representation of his failing hope. Not that he had held out much hope in the first place.

He pulled out his phone and called Fate for the tenth time that night. It rang twice, then went to voice mail. Castiel tried to ignore the implications of that.

"Hey, Fate. It's uh, it's Cas, again. I guess you're busy, and you forgot about our date. It's fine, I just want to talk to you sometime, okay? I'll, um, I'm leaving the restaurant, so I'll--see you later, I guess. Call me back. Bye."

He hunt up the phone, cursing at his rambling. Then he paid the bill and left, ignoring the pity in the waiter's eyes and trying to leave with his dignity.

His phone rang and he answered it without looking, thinking that it had to be her.

"Fate?"

"Not quite," an English accent greeted.

"Oh," Castiel said, deflated. "Now's not a good time, Balthazar."

"Girl troubles?" he guessed.

"Balthazar--"

"Oh, come on, Cassie, dear."

Castiel sighed. "She stood me up tonight. Again." Castiel ran a hand through his already-messed up hair, making it stick up in all the ways Fate hated.

"Isn't that like, the sixth time?"

"Seventh," Castiel corrected, a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Just break up with her, Castiel," Balthazar urged. "She's not worth your trouble."

"I would, but--" Castiel waved down a taxi and stood impatiently on a street corner. "I need a girlfriend for Christmas, Bal."

"You could always take me," Balthazar offered. Castiel actually considered it for half a second.

"My family hates you, Bal."

"That's true," he conceded. "You could hire someone."

"What, like a--?" Castiel lowered his voice as he got in the back of a cab. "Like a prostitute? No! I'm not that desperate.

"No, more like a--I don't know, an actor. Like in the movies."

"Balthazar, that's ridiculous. I'm not going to hire a stranger to come pretend to be my girlfriend."

"Well, it doesn't have to be a stranger. Like I said, I would--"

"Balthazar," Castiel said, annoyed. Balthazar laughed and Castiel wished he was talking to him in person so he could punch him in the face.

"Sorry, Cassie. Looks like you'll just have to stick with the chick."

Castiel hung up the phone, thinking that perhaps Balthazar was smoking something unethical, and if so, he really did need to stop.


	2. Him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback! Here's another chapter to accompany my good mood today!

 

"Oh, come on, Jo, it's not like--"

"Dean Winchester," Jo said seriously, "there is no way in hell that I would ever date your ass."

Dean shrugged, shifting in his seat on the bar stool at his current part-time job, The Roadhouse. "It's not like we'd actually be dating, it'd just be like acting. Come on, for me?"

"Your family'd never believe it, you know that. My answer's final."

Dean sighed and checked his watch. He still had five minutes left in his break, but after that, he'd be booked all night, and Ellen, his boss, had a strict no-flirting-with-customers rule (which he rarely followed, but Ellen happened to be overseeing the workplace tonight). He hated to admit it, but he was getting desperate. "Fine. But who else am I going to ask?"

"Figure it out yourself, I'm not your social worker," Jo said. She left to refill a costumer's drink and Dean watched her go sadly. There was a time when Jo had a crush on him, but she had gotten over it a few years too soon for Dean to take advantage of it. Not that Dean would take advantage of her. Or anyone. Of course not.

(Dean had a theory that Ellen could read minds.)

Maybe he could still get out of all of his. Dean pulled out his cell phone, thumb hovering over his brother's number. Finally, before his break was over, he stepped outside, putting the phone to his ear.

"Hey Dean," Sam greeted. "I was actually just going to call you. Jess wants to know if Lisa wears jewelry? It's silly, I know, all girls wear jewelry, but Jess is freaking out because she wants to get her a Christmas present."

"Well," Dean said slowly. "Actually--"

"What, does she actually not like it? I mean, what are you going to give her when you screw things up?" Sam teased joyfully. Dean felt knots twist in his stomach.

"Listen, about Lisa. It's actually kind of a funny story," Dean began.

There was a static sigh from the other end. "Dean, did she already break up with you?"

There was so much disappointment in his voice that Dean couldn't do it. If there was one thing Dean would always do, it was make his little brother happy. "No, of course not! Her family is just really into the whole tradition thing, and we might have to go to her house for Christmas."

"You'll swing by, though, won't you? Jess is so excited for a reason to have a real Christmas, and Dad--well." Sam didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't have to. Dean could hear the hope in his voice.

"We'll try, Sammy," Dean said, despairing that he had dug himself deeper into his hole. He hung up the phone and went back inside, thinking that maybe the idea of hiring someone wasn't that bad of an idea after all.

  
***

"Listen, Fate, I've been meaning to talk to you--"

"I've been meaning to talk to you too! Come on, sit down."

Castiel let himself be ushered over to the small couch in Fate's million dollar city view apartment. He sat down, and Fate sat across from him, taking his hand in hers.

"Listen," Fate said carefully, and Castiel looked at her warily. "I'm sorry about last night."

"It's okay," Castiel said. "I know you're busy."

"That's the thing," Fate said. "I'm really busy. And I just don't know if this is going to work out."

Castiel stared blankly at her for a few seconds, then began laughing, whether from delirium or as an impulse to hide his real emotions, he wasn't sure. Before he could order his thoughts, he blurted out, "You don't know if this is going to work out? It's never worked, you selfish bitch."

Castiel stood up and looked down at Fate, who had a hurt expression mixed with confusion. Some part of Castiel urged him to stop talking, but his mouth kept speaking against his will. "You have no right to dump me! You have been dodging my calls, standing me up on dates, and overall being remarkably shitty and to top it all of, you're going to break up with me right before the holidays?"

Fate opened her mouth to speak, but Castiel quickly went on, "No, you have no right to speak on this matter! We won't work this out, we will not talk about this, and this is the last I want to see of you!"

He turned and walked to the door. His hand was on the handle when he heard a small, "Fuck you."

"Yeah, well, fuck you too," he said without turning. He left the apartment complex in a whirlwind, thinking of all the time he had wasted trying to win Fate's favor. He tried not to think of all the times he had been in love with her, and all of the times he had never wanted things to change. They had been few and far between, but there had been moments when it was all worth it.

Castiel kept walking after he had left the complex, turning down the street quickly towards home. He stubbornly tried to blink the unshed tears from his eyes. It wasn't a big deal. Fate had only been who he'd been planning on spending his whole life with, the person he'd fallen in love with between the fights and frustration. It was nothing he couldn't get over, nothing that he couldn't--

"Damnit!" Castiel said out loud, ignoring the condescending looks from passerbys.

He didn't have time for a break down. He took out his phone and dialed Balthazar's number quickly, hoping he didn't sound too much like he had been upset.

"Hey Balthazar," Castiel said slowly, feeling ridiculous. "Remember when you said I should hire someone to be my girlfriend? Well, it's not sounding so crazy anymore."

"That's good, because I just signed you up as a fake date," Balthazar said. "You'll be meeting him in an hour. I'll come pick you up."

"Him?" Castiel asked. The line went dead. Castiel swallowed thickly, knowing he would probably regret this later.

***

"I found you a date!" Jo said cheerfully when Dean's shift was over. "Well, a fake date. I made a few calls, there's this guy that I went to high school with that worked a job with this one guy who--"

Dean stared at her uncomprehendingly. "What do you mean, you found me a fake date?"

"I found someone who will pretend to be dating you for the holidays! Come on, it's perfect Dean!" Jo bounced up and down, smiling brightly and tugging at his arm.

"Why are you so excited about this?" Dean complained.

"No reason," Jo said quickly.

Dean eyed her suspiciously. "How am I going to pay her, anyways? If you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have hordes of money."

"That's the beauty of it, they need someone to come to their family dinner, too. All you have to do is fake date through the holidays and then you never have to see each other again," Jo said quickly. "Come on, I met this person a few years ago. He's great! You're meeting him in a half hour, so you should clean up."

Dean did a double take. "Him?"

Jo ignored him, going on, "You're meeting at that restaurant across from your place. I would hurry if I was you."

"Him?" Dean asked again. Jo was already out the door.

Maybe he had heard her wrong. There was a possibility, wasn't there? And Jo had set it up for him, so she knew not to set him up with a guy. Anyways, it was still fake. And he could always say no.

What the hell was he getting himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, the boys finally meet! Is anyone else excited?


	3. Fake-Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all so much for the positive feedback! In return for you wonderfulness, here is another chapter:)

"Balthazar, this is stupid," Castiel complained. They had found a parking spot across from the meeting place and now was the point where Castiel was supposed to be getting out of the car. They had gone over the details a million times--the man's name was Dean, and they would meet by the door way. Castiel wished that Dean had arrived before him, so he could get a good look at him before hand. Castiel wished that he hadn't come in the first place.

"Come on, Cassie, it won't be that bad. If you don't like him, say no," Balthazar said soothingly. "And remember, it's just an agreement. It's not real."

Castiel huffed. "You couldn't have found a woman?"

"You've dated guys before," Balthazar objected.

"Yeah, to the disapproval of Michael and half of my extended family. They'll hate this," he reminded him.

"Would you rather show up with a man or no on at all?"

Castiel contemplated that for a while. While showing up without a date was a possibility, it wasn't one he particularly enjoyed. It would be another year being ridiculed and analyzed. No one would believe that he and Fate had broken up at a convenient time of two weeks before Christmas, and if they did, it would only mean more abuse. No, Castiel had to come with a date. And, if that meant bringing a man, well then, so be it.

Finally, he sighed. "Fine. But if this blows up, I blame you."

He got out of the car, throwing one last glare in Balthazar's direction. Then he walked to the intersection and joined a small group of people waiting to cross, stuffing his hands in his trench coat pockets and keeping his head down. He glanced up again at the restaurant, this time seeing a man there, huddling quietly in the doorway. His hair was dirty blonde, spiked up in a way that suggested he took time in the morning to style it exactly the way he wanted it. He was wearing an old-looking leather jacket with collar popped up in the back in a way that was probably supposed to be cool.

Was this Dean? Was this the man he was supposed to meet?

Castiel realized that not only was he staring, but the walking light had turned on. He flushed red and hurried across the street, heart beating loudly in his chest. He shouldn't be nervous about this. This was a business arrangement. There was nothing to it--he didn't even have to impress the guy, if he was desperate enough. This was absolutely nothing like dating.

The butterflies in his stomach were not convinced, however, and they stubbornly continued to exist.

As Castiel got closer, the man looked up, making eye contact with Castiel for a fleeting second. His eyes were stunning green, and Castiel lost his purpose for a brief second, freezing in spot like the true socially awkward person he was. Then he cursed himself and jolted back into movement, moving steadily closer to the man in the leather jacket. He hesitated as he neared the doorway, mentally tripping over what he was going to say.

He recovered from his social anxiety after a few seconds and stepped forward. "Um, would you happen to be Dean? I'm Castiel."

The man jerked from his position and looked him over, eyes widening slightly. "You're… 'Cassie?'"

Castiel sighed. "That is probably what Balthazar introduced me as, yes."

"Well, damn," he said, holding out his hand. "Hi. I'm Dean."

***

"Should we go inside?"

Dean shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded absently. "Um, yeah. I think Jo reserved us a table."

Dean opened the door for the man, taking the opportunity to take a closer look at him. He was wearing a tattered tan trench coat, accompanied by a black suit underneath. His eyes were blue--like, really, really blue--and his black hair stood up in odd angles against the wind. He was nothing like what Dean was expecting. He had convinced himself into expecting a girl.

Whatever, Winchester, Dean reminded himself. Just eat dinner with him, then tell him you don't think you're compatible. That'll work.

That sounded too much like breaking up with a clingy girlfriend. Not that Dean had had many of those. Or many girlfriends at all.

He stepped up to the host standing at a podium by the door. "We have a reservation. Winchester, party of two."

The man behind the podium nodded and proceeded to lead them to their table. There was a  heavy silence as they settled into their seats, followed by an awkward silence as they inspected each other from across the table. Castiel's stare was piercing, as if he could see down into the very depths of Dean's soul. Dean felt inadequate, like Castiel would deem him unworthy in a few minute's time and leave without a second thought. He wondered why the idea bothered him.

"So, Castiel. Cas. What do you do for a living?" Dean asked smoothly, quickly regaining all of his usual charm.

"I'm a journalist," Castiel said. He tilted his head slightly, then said, "Might we skip the theatrics and get down to the reason we are both here tonight?"

Dean couldn't help but grin, letting out a small laugh. "I guess we could do that too. What do you want to discuss?"

"If we were to go through with this, what are the conditions?" Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, a day or two at my house is long enough. In return I'll go to whatever family gatherings you have." He tried to make it sound simple, like he was confident in all of this. How did he even pretend to date a guy? Was it like dating a girl? Was it different? How did he even pull this off?

He then stubbornly reminded himself that he wasn't going through with this.

"It's that easy?" Castiel asked. "I help you, you help me, and that's it?"

"Does it need to be more difficult than that?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No, I suppose not," the other man responded. "If we're going to do this, you need to know a few things about me."

Dean shrugged. "Well, let's eat dinner first. Then we'll talk."

***

Castiel played along with Dean's attitude of keeping things light, but only for so long. Staring across the table at Dean, he realized how silly this all really was. Dean was an attractive man--Castiel was willing to admit that--so why wasn't he able to find a girlfriend for the holidays by himself? Not to mention he obviously had no experience with dating men, which Castiel wouldn't care about except for the fact that Dean would have a harder time trying to act as his boyfriend.

No, if they were going to do this, Castiel finally decided, it was going to have to be all the way. They were basically going to have to be in a real relationship for the duration of this. On top of it, Castiel was going to have to hide that fact from Dean.

"You're done eating now. Are you ready to listen, or will that be too much multitasking for you?

Dean looked up at Castiel in surprise and let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, I'm good now. Go ahead."

Castiel hid a small smirk by taking a sip of his water. "First of all, you should know that my father is absent and my mother died when I was very young, so the family that you'll be meeting is my older siblings."

Dean frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry, man. My mom died when I was young too."

Castiel shook his head. "Yes, well, the past is the past, right? I have three older brothers and one sister. Michael's the oldest, and the one you need to worry about. He's the most prevalent reason I need a date for the holidays."

Castiel looked up expectantly at Dean. Dean cleared his throat and licked his lips. "Well, my dad's a no-good drunk, but my brother Sammy is a big nerd. His wife, Jess, was talking about how she wanted to set me up with one of her friends, so I panicked and told them I had a girlfriend. Thus the need of an actual person to bring home."

Castiel frowned, even though he had been expecting this. "And if your brother is expecting a girlfriend, what will he say when you bring home a boyfriend?"

Dean laughed. "Sam? He'll say it's about time. It's my dad you'd have to worry about, but he'd say shit about whoever I brought home."

"And you're okay with being with a man?" Castiel asked. "Because that is essentially what you are agreeing to here."

"Dude, what's with the third degree?" Dean objected.

"Dean, we need to get this out of the way."'

Dean stared at him for several more minutes, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He licked his lips again, and Castiel figured it must be a nervous habit. Finally he shrugged in an overly passive gesture. "I don't know, Cas, should it bother me?"

"No," Castiel said.

"Then it doesn't bother me," Dean said resolutely. Castiel wasn't sure if he believed him, but he let the illusion stand for now.

***

"Jo, I can't believe you set me up with a guy."

"Well, how did it go? I imagine you told him that it wasn't going to work?"

"Not exactly."

"...you mean you actually agreed to fake-date him."

"...no."

"Dean!"

"I don't know! He just gave me this look and then I was giving him my phone number and agreeing to be his boyfriend."

"…"

"Not a word, Jo. Not a word."


	4. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend! To those of you who left comments or kudos, I would like to reward you with one electronic hug! You'll receive it momentarily. 
> 
> Anyways, here's another chapter. Enjoy!

 

Dean woke up with a headache and a keen sense of regret. He wondered vaguely if he'd been drugged, like maybe Castiel had slipped something into his drink when he hadn't been looking. Then he dismissed the idea, knowing it had been his own stupidity that had gotten him into this mess.

He wondered if he could still get out of this. He supposed that he could. He would just have to call Castiel and tell him he'd thought about it more and that he'd decided it didn't feel right. Or, he could say he'd found someone else. Hell, he could come up with any good excuse, or not an excuse at all, and leave it there.

What the hell had even happened last night? Dean wasn't completely sure. He remembered one moment he was preparing to tell the guy to get lost, and the next he was agreeing to with everything he said. Before, Dean saw himself as a charmer, but he guess Castiel wasn't so bad off himself. Sam would definitely love him, anyways. 

Wait, was he really taking this guy home for Christmas?

Dean was only worsening his headache so he quit thinking and got ready for work instead. He ignored the handwritten note with Castiel's phone number on it, and most definitely did not waste five minutes trying to save it on his ancient cell phone. He did not wonder if Castiel was going to call him, and he did not spare even a thought towards Castiel's remarkably blue eyes.

Dean did not think of Castiel at all. Dean went to work.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted idly as he entered Singer's Salvage. It looked like a slow day, which did not comfort Dean at all, as it would leave him even more time to not think about Castiel.

"You're late," Bobby greeted.

Dean took the hint and went to work immediately. He immersed himself in the cars, spending most of his time restoring a beautiful 1967 Chevrolet Impala. He envied whoever owned the classic car. Maybe he could buy her off of the guy if he didn't pay for food for a week.

Dean lost himself in daydreams about the car, and didn't even wonder what Castiel would look like riding shotgun.

***

Castiel woke up exhausted. He rolled over in bed, turning off the alarm reminding him he had work today and huffed at the reminders of the night before strewn across the room. There was his trench coat, thrown over the armchair in the corner. There was his cell phone peeking out of it, Castiel having forgotten to plug it in to the charger. There was the now broken picture frame that had held a picture of Fate and Castiel, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. There was the glass, and the forgotten ashes of the picture. There was the empty beer--and there was the other three, scattered randomly throughout the room.

Castiel ignored his pounding headache and he ignored the wave of sickness that washed over him as he stood up. He didn't think about what Fate was doing right now, or wonder if she was lonely without him. Instead, Castiel thought about Dean.

Did Dean have work today? Was he working on cars like he had said he did for a living? Or was he at the bar today, flirting with women and raking in tips for his charming smile? Not that it bothered Castiel that he might be doing that. Not at all.

Castiel took a shower and let the hot water wash away all of the feelings Fate had left him with. Afterwards he wiped the tear stains off of his trench coat, dug his briefcase out from underneath his old laundry, nudged past the broken picture frame by the doorway, and left for work. He stuffed his free hand into his pocket and slouched to try and avoid the worst of the wind. When his hands met a crumpled piece of paper, he paused and pulled it out, flattening it as far as it would go. On it was scrawled Dean's number, along with an apartment complex name and a room name.

Castiel stuffed it unceremoniously back into his pocket and continued onward to the office building for the local newspaper he wrote for. He had held himself together rather well the night before, he mused absently. At least, if nothing else, he would still have someone to take home for Christmas, even if he was a bit inadequate for the job.

Still, Castiel thought Dean was the perfect man to take home. Handsome, charming, and everything Michael hated, which was exactly the sort of insult to him that Castiel needed to bring home this year. Not to mention that everyone else would love him, throwing Michael under the bus as the bad guy. It was too bad Dean wouldn't stick around longer.

Castiel threw open the doors of the office and head to his desk, a small cubicle amongst hundreds of others. He wrote an advice column called "Thursday's Angel." Every week his name was displayed proudly just underneath the ad for "Purgatory," the strip club down the street, and above the political comics. It didn't pay fantastically, and he wasn't famous, or popular, but he helped people. He was changing the world one person at a time, and that was what mattered. Perhaps if Michael read it occasionally, he wouldn't call Castiel's job a stupid waste of time.

But then again, Michael never would, and if he did he wouldn't care.

So Castiel went to work, and lost himself in the problems of others instead of his own.

***

 Dean stared down at his phone, finger hovering over the call button. Castiel's number was displayed on the screen. All he had to do was call. 

He imagined how the conversation would go. _"Cas, I've been thinking, and I don't think this is going to work out."_

_"That's alright Dean, I'll just bewitch someone else with my freaky superhuman powers."_

Dean smirked slightly. How bad could the call really go? Castiel was a reasonable guy. He would understand.

Before Dean could call, his phone rang. "Damnit," he swore, before bringing the phone to his ear and saying cheerfully, "Hey, Sammy."

"Hey, Dean," Sam greeted. "Sorry to bother you at work, but Jess had another question about Lisa."

"Nah, it's fine," Dean said. "I'm actually on break right now."

"Great!" Sam said. "Listen, does Lisa--?"

"Sam," Dean interrupted. Sam quieted immediately, and Dean felt the weight of the silence settle over him. "The thing about Lisa is…"

Sam didn't say anything, so Dean went on. "Lisa's not real. I made her up."

 "You… you what?"

Dean swallowed. "It's, um… the thing is, I don't have a girlfriend, I have a boyfriend. His name is Castiel."

"...of all the things I just expected you to say, Dean, that was not one of them."

"What, are you judging me?"

"No!" Sam's laughter filled the other end of the phone. "That's great. Congrats, and all that."

Dean hung up the phone several minutes later after promising to bring Castiel home to meet him.

"Well, damn," Dean said to the open air around him. He guessed he was bringing Castiel home for Christmas after all. 


	5. A Business Arrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to thank all of the people who have left comments or kudos. You have no idea how much it brightens my day. I literally brag about my awesome readers to all of my friends, even when they don't know what I'm talking about. Here's to you!
> 
> Second, the other person who is doing this competition has posted the beginning of her fanfiction on here! Her username is DeadInside (you may have seen her spamming my comments section). Go give her love! 
> 
> And finally, here's a chapter, dedicated to you, my dear readers. I feel like all of you are my best friends (and some of you actually are. Sam.)

It was Thursday before Castiel heard from Dean again. Although it was only two days, the radio silence led Castiel to wonder if perhaps the whole thing had been a figment of his drunken imagination. Perhaps the whole thing had been a dream, and he really was screwed as far as the holiday situation was concerned.

His phone woke him up instead of his alarm that day, flinging him out of peaceful sleep and into the world of the living. His phone was on vibrate, but he could still hear it, buzzing more violently until it vibrated right off of the bedside table. Castiel flipped over, reaching for the phone but instead ending up on the floor with his feet up in the air against the bed.

He didn't bother moving. "Hello?" he asked tiredly.

"Sorry," Dean's voice said. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Castiel said sarcastically. "It's only six in the morning. Why would you think that?"

"Sorry," Dean apologized again. "I have to leave for the auto shop in a half hour, so this was the only time I could call."

"It's fine," Castiel said.

An awkward silence followed. It was deafening, and Castiel wanted to break it, but he didn't know what to say. _Dean_ was the one who called _him_ , after all, and it was early and Castiel was still upside down on the floor.

"So, um…" Dean finally said. "D'you want to get lunch today?"

"I would love to get lunch, Dean," Castiel said quickly, happy for the new movement in conversation. "Does this mean you've committed?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean said hesitantly. "I guess so. I told my brother about you, so there's not going back now."

Castiel breathed a silent sigh of relief, then cursed himself for sounding like a clingy boyfriend. "Alright," Castiel said, keeping his voice even. "It's a date."

He was aware of the irony of that statement.

They set up a time and a place, and Castiel hung up, clutching the phone to his chest while still laying on the ground. He smirked at his situation, knowing exactly what Fate would say to this.  _"I had a plan! This is not according to plan!"_  He laughed at himself, then laughed some more at what he was doing with his life. He hadn't laughed like that since--well, since he had gotten together with Fate. Being with Fate had never made him laugh like that.

Suddenly sobering, Castiel got up. Dean was a business arrangement, and Castiel had other work to do.

***

Dean stopped at the gas station for on the way to work, bypassing the Starbucks in favor of the simple, less busy store. He bypassed all of the sweeteners and bought his coffee along with a newspaper, because it was Thursday. Dean always bought the paper on Thursdays.

He walked the rest of the way to work, finishing his coffee and going straight to work on the Impala. She was finally ready for a paint job today, and the owner had chosen black, just she had been painted originally. Dean agreed with him completely. By the time he was done with her, the Impala was going to be a beauty.

Dean had never really wanted a car before after he'd moved to the metropolitan area. He loved cars, sure, and he loved fixing them up, but when it was faster to just walk to his destination it just didn't seem like a necessity. He rarely went home, and if he did, he just rented a car or used a friend's, or even had Sam come and pick him up. He didn’t have the money, and Dean knew that even if he get a car, it'd take him ages to find one he liked and that was worth the responsibility.

Dean wanted the Impala. He wanted to keep her and her now-flawless frame, her new leather seats and her new engine and her new paint job. Dean had never really felt heartbreak before, but he thought that if he ever would, it would be when the Impala left him.

 _This is why you can't keep a girlfriend_ , Dean reminded himself. Then, he shrugged--he had a boyfriend now anyways. He chuckled slightly at the thought. Him? Dean Winchester? A boyfriend?

"What're you giggling about over there?"

Dean jumped and flipped around, seeing Benny leaning against a wall casually. Benny was his coworker, and had been ever since Dean had moved here, and had saved his ass more than once. "I was just think about how ugly your face was," Dean shot back, smirking because he knew he'd stolen that from his little brother.

"I think you've got mine mixed up with yours," Benny suggested. "You up for lunch today?"

"Uh, no, actually," Dean said, hesitating. "I have--a date."

Benny arched a brow. "A date? Did you finally find a woman to bring home?"

"Well, not exactly--" Dean stuttered. "I sort of--well, I sort of found a man. To bring home."

Benny took a long look at Dean, then shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, brother."

He turned to walk away, but Dean called after him, "What, doesn't it surprise you?"

Benny smirked and spared a fleeting glance backwards. "I always knew your hair was too pretty."

Dean ran a self conscious hand through his hair. "It is not!" he yelled after Benny. "I just take care of it!"

Benny laughed and went back to the office, and Dean frowned and wondered just how many people had always assumed he was gay. Not that it mattered, because he wasn't gay, anyways. He liked women. He had the experience to prove it.

And, if maybe Dean did take extra care to mess up his hair before he left to show just how straight he really was, well, there was nothing wrong with that.

***

"Hey, honey," Dean joked, sitting down at the table across from Castiel. Castiel glared at him from over his book. He glanced at Dean's clothing--he had on a white T-shirt underneath a plaid button down that had oil stains all over it, and his hair was more messed up than the last time Castiel had seen him. _The wild Dean Winchester in his natural state_ , Castiel mused.

"Don't call me that," he said seriously.

"Okay, sweetie," Dean said smirking. Castiel gave him his best _I-will-smite-you_ glare.

"Cut that out, we'll work out pet names later," Castiel said boredly, smirking as Dean's eyes widened. Before Dean could say anything else, Castiel went on, "Right now we need to discuss dates. We have to at least go to dinner with my family on Christmas, my brother is demanding it."

Dean shrugged. "That's cool. My family's not really big on the whole Christmas thing. What days do you get off work?"

Castiel's was close to town, and they were basically just having a family dinner, so Castiel and Dean decided to drive out to Sam's house on Saturday and spend until Thursday there, and then spend Friday with Castiel's family. Dean offered to stay longer at Castiel's house, but Castiel assured him quickly that he would neither like it nor would they be wanted. Dean was perfectly okay with that.

They finished lunch quickly, because Dean had to get back to the shop. As he finished, he glanced out the window on the other side of the diner they were eating at. "Shit," he swore quietly, observing the pouring rain that had appeared over the last twenty minutes.

"What is it?" Castiel asked, then followed Dean's eyes to the window. "Oh. You walked here, didn't you?"

"It's, fine, I'll just get a cab," Dean said.

"Don't be ridiculous," Castiel said. "I'll drive you. I don't have to be back at work for another half hour, I'll be fine."

"No, Cas, it's fine--"

"Dean, it's not that big of a deal."

Dean glared at him. "Alright," he reluctantly agreed. "But only because you have to put up with my nerd brother for six days."

Castiel, as it happened, had a smart car, which Dean huffed at extensively and almost completely refused to ride in. Castiel managed to get him in the car and once they were on the road, he asked, "So you're a mechanic without a car?"

Dean shrugged, eyes unfocused and fixed on an imaginary spot out the window. "I don't really have the money for that sort of thing."

"Did you always want to be a mechanic?" Castiel asked a moment later.

"Pretty much my whole life," Dean said softly. "My dad didn't like it, but cars… you can always fix them. I like that about them."

"Why wouldn't your dad want you to be a mechanic?" Castiel asked.

"He wanted me to join the marines, like him. Never really seemed like my thing," Dean said.

"I understand completely," Castiel said, thinking of his own father. They drove the rest of the way in silence, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable--it just was. 


	6. Thursday's Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear, wonderful, followers I love all of you. Thank you for all of the nice comments and kudos and everything! Each of you are wonderful human beings, even if all you did was read or subscribe to my story. Yes, even you, my dear stalkers that haven't said a word to me! I love YOU!
> 
> Next, I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend. Also, I hope everyone has a good Thanksgiving (unless you're not in the US--in that case, have a good wonderful regular Thursday), just in case I don't get another chance to update this week.
> 
> Lots of dialogue for this chapter, sorry. Next time is when it'll really start to pick up, I promise. :)

Against all logical sense, when Castiel pulled into the Singer's Auto Shop parking lot, Dean didn't want him to leave. He decided against dwelling on that, instead smirking across at Castiel and saying, "Hey, you wanna come see what a real car looks like?"

He was fully prepared for Castiel to say no, but instead Castiel smiled and replied, "Do your worst, Mr. Winchester."

Dean ignored the shiver he got at the words and he absolutely did not imagine them being used in a different setting. He got out of the car and gestured for Castiel to follow him. Castiel followed closely behind him, bordering on invading his personal space. Strangely, Dean found that he didn't mind.

"Just take a look," Dean said, leading Castiel to back where the Impala was, "at this beautiful work of art."

As he spoke, he inspected the car carefully. The paint job was drying nicely, and even taped up and under construction, the Impala looked beautiful. Castiel tilted his head slightly at the sight of the car. "It's… nice."

"Nice? This is a 1967 Chevy Impala, completely restored and practically rebuilt from the ground up. This is a masterpiece, have you even..."

Castiel's eyes bored into him and Dean trailed off, feeling self-conscious about his obsession with the car. Dean watched as Castiel's eyes narrowed, shifting uncomfortably. Suddenly Dean wondered why he had even brought Castiel in here.

Then, Castiel's eyes moved, roaming around the shop. He wandered over Dean's personal corner, the one he spent most of his life in these days. There was a small board where he hung all of his tools, along with a few pictures. Dean followed Castiel and pointed to the biggest picture on the top.

"That's my brother Sammy and his wife Jess on their wedding day," Dean said, grinning like a proud father despite himself. Castiel silently examined the picture, giving away nothing. Dean pointed to the other picture next to it, of a now-near unrecognizable family. "That's my family, when I was four. Sammy was only six months old. That was right before the fire."

He cut himself off, not wanting to give Castiel too much of a sob story. He probably didn't really care--this was Dean's personal life, not his. Castiel was only pretending to be his boyfriend, and he didn't need to know.

Castiel pointed to a small newspaper clipping in the corner. "Is that a… Thursday's Angel article?"

Dean flushed red and shrugged. "I'm a bit of a fan. That's his article on, um, alcoholism…" Dean trailed off awkwardly.

Castiel gave away nothing, only shrugging. "I've read his stuff, once or twice. He doesn't ever give out his name, right?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "I wonder who he really is?"

"Yeah," Castiel said vaguely. "I wonder."

***

Castiel spent Friday packing and worrying about the week ahead of him. Then, he didn't know what to pack, so he worried about packing, and when he had finally settled on what he was bringing he decided he had packed too much and redid all of it.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, but nonetheless, the was. He paced up and down his living room, wondering how he should act around Dean, and what Dean's family would think of him. He worried about the Christmas dinner with his family, and what his family would think of Dean.

Then, he remembered that he had told Michael all about his girlfriend Fate, who was rich and smart, and not Dean, who was--well, a man.

"Shit," he said, grabbing his cell phone. What was he even going to tell him? How did you explain something like suddenly switching your significant other? He dialed the number before he could question the action, tapping his fingers impatiently against the wall.

"City morgue, you kill 'em, we grill 'em."

Castiel sighed, partly in relief and partly in annoyance. "Hello, Gabriel. How are you?"

"I'm great, Cassie, how are you?" Gabriel's tone was joking, as usual.  Castiel spared a small smile.

"I'm well, Gabriel."

"...is there a reason for this call, or did you just ring me to hear my luxurious voice? It's alright, you can admit it, I understand."

Castiel rolled his eyes and huffed, running a nervous hand through his hair. "Well, um, do you remember that girlfriend I talked about, Fate?"

"Castiel," Gabriel said seriously. "You called me every day for a month to talk about her. I remember."

"Well, she's not real. I made her up."

"...what?"

"Fate isn't real. I don't have a rich girlfriend," Castiel repeated, talking slower.

"I hear what you said, Cassie, what I'm asking is _what the hell_?"

"...Oh." Castiel took a deep breath, then continued, "I have a boyfriend. His name is Dean, and he's a mechanic. I'll be bringing him home on Christmas for dinner."

Gabriel was silent for several moments. Castiel wished that he could see him in person, so that he could gauge his expression. Finally, Gabriel said, "Why didn't you just tell us that in the first place?"

"I was trying to get Michael off my back," Castiel supplied quickly. "But I'm not going to lie anymore."

"Michael won't appreciate that," Gabriel warned. "Are you sure you should bring this Dan guy home?"

"His name's Dean," Castiel corrected impatiently. "And I wouldn't imagine having Christmas dinner without him."

Castiel really did try not to find the truth behind those words.

***

"Dean!"

"Oh, hi, Jess."

"If you want to talk to Sam, he's--"

"No, it's all good. I just wanted to tell you Cas and I will be coming up tomorrow, we'll get there around noon."

"That's perfect, I'll just make up the guest bedroom."

"Jess, you don't have to go to any trouble, we'll just stay at the hotel."

"Dean Winchester, you will stay at our house and that is final. If I have to be there with Sam and John in the same vicinity, so you do."

"...alright, Jess."

"And Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"That was a hard move for you, admitting to your family that you have a boyfriend. I'm proud of you."

"...thanks."


	7. I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dear, beautiful readers! I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I certainly did, hiding in my room from extended family and blogging from my phone! Isn't that what the holidays are all about?
> 
> Here's a bunch of meaningless fluff. Sometimes, I look at what I'm writing and think, "this is too ridiculous, no one would actually ever do this." And then I post it anyways. Enjoy!

Dean ended up renting a goddamn Kia Sportage to take him and Castiel to Sam's place. It was a pukey orange color, and personally, Dean despised the car and all of its fixtures. However, there was no way he was going to spend a four hour drive in Castiel's toy of a car, not to mention that he didn't think any of their stuff would fit in it.

He googled Castiel's address and saw that he lived in the nicer apartments not far from his, and on Saturday he drove over there to pick him up. Castiel appeared at eight o'clock on the dot with a backpack and a small duffel bag, dressed again in his suit, trench coat, and (albeit loosened) tie. Dean looked down at his own clothing, which although was actually what he wore to work most days, was, in a word, grungy. He wondered if Castiel always dressed up like that, or if he was trying intentionally to impress Dean's family--or Dean himself.

Why would he be trying to impress Dean? That, of course, was ridiculous.

"Howdy, Cas," Dean said after Castiel, having put his bags in the back, slid into the passenger seat.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, just like he always did.

Dean pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the quickest way out of town - the faster he could get on the highway, the better, as far as he was concerned. He absently turned on the radio, wanting to skip the conversation and the awkward silence that would probably follow. The preset station was, of course Christmas music. Dean flipped to the next station, but soon found that all of them were playing Christmas songs.

"God damn Christmas music," Dean grumbled, turning the radio back off. Castiel snorted beside him, throwing him an amused look.

"You know, Dean, it is Christmas. You could bear with the music," he said absently. He reached for the radio controls, but Dean's hand shot out and stopped him mid way.

"None of the other holidays have their own songs," Dean said. "And if they did, I bet they wouldn't be half as annoying."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Castiel roll his eyes. However, he did sit back in his seat and didn't say anything else. The silence hung over them, thick with unspoken words.

***

As they neared their destination, Dean began to talk more about his family.

"The first thing you gotta know about Sam," Dean said randomly after about three hours of silence. "Is that he's a great big nerd."

Castiel laughed. "And what do you classify as a 'great big nerd?'"

"He graduated from Stamford two years ago, and works as an attorney at a big law firm back home. He reads all of the time, and does research for fun. I'd say that's pretty nerdy, wouldn't you?"

"What about your father?" Castiel asked.

Dean went quiet. Castiel glanced at him, observing his fists tightening the tiniest bit around the steering wheel. "I will be meeting him in under an hour," Castiel reminded him gently.

"Yeah," Dean said. After a few seconds, he went on, "Dad was never the same after mom died. He spent most of my childhood drunk and inconsolable. He's tried, a few times, to get over it, but…"

"I understand," Castiel said.

"You've said that before," Dean commented. "What about your family?"

"I don't want to talk about them until we have to," Castiel said, turning back to the window.

"Fine, then, let's talk about you," Dean said, shrugging. "You're a journalist, right?"

"Yes," Castiel said.

Dean seemed to wait for further answer, but when it was evident that Castiel wasn't going to continue, he said, "Oh, come on, Cas. You're playing my boyfriend, I'm going to have to know stuff about you."

Castiel glared. "Fine. I work for the local newspaper, I write a weekly column."

"What's is called?" Dean asked. When Castiel remained silent, he said, "You live in nice apartments, for a journalist."

Castiel shrugged. "I inherited money from my parents."

"Are you rich?"

Castiel sighed. "Dean -"

"I think it's a valid question, Cas," Dean said. "My family'll be so impressed if you're loaded."

"I'm not rich," Castiel said. "My father was, and my older brother is. I have a small share of money from the family company."

"Damn," Dean said. "A family company? I had to drop out of high school so I could put Sam through college."

Castiel glanced at Dean quickly, but Dean didn't look like he was bothered by the statement - simply surprised. Castiel could see now why Dean worked two part time jobs instead of anything substantial . He had given up all of his chances for his younger brother.

***

The last half hour, Castiel turned the radio back on. Dean studiously ignored it, and pretended like it had never even been turned on.

Castiel turned the sound up a few seconds later. Elvis's _Blue Christmas_ was playing. Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel, but otherwise said nothing at the increasingly annoying sound filling the car.

Castiel began to hum.

Castiel began to sing along.

Dean's grip relaxed again with out his noticing. Castiel's voice was deep, but it went deeper when he was singing, low and smooth. He was unmoving, and his head was turned towards the window, as if there was something very interesting just beyond Dean's line of vision. Dean could see his jaw moving, and his shoulders as he breathed in.

A car horn interrupted his somewhat -stalkerish gaze and Dean swerved back into his lane, head turning sharply back forwards. Castiel abruptly stopped singing.  Dean swallowed thickly, running his tongue over his lips and taking a deep breath to steady his racing heartbeat. He felt Castiel's gaze on him, questioning, and Dean only shrugged.

When they finally arrived to Sam's house, Dean paused just outside the door. 

Castiel appeared beside him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "It'll be fine. If you get lost, just follow my lead," he said softly.

"Of course it'll be fine," Dean said gruffly. He threw open the door loudly, a grin plastered on his face and Castiel by his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry we didn't get quite to Dean's family yet:) I decided there really needed to be something cute on the car ride, and then it expanded, and then, well, you see what happens. It's not my fault, the characters just have a life of their own. I mean seriously, can anyone any control Dean and Cas? I thought not.
> 
> Also, shout-out to my Dean. You know who you are. I love you:)


	8. Quaint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear, wonderful readers. I would not have gotten this far without you. 
> 
> This chapter goes out to my lovely reader that goes by Gem, who comments every chapter without fail and always leaves the most wonderful messages. I hope this was worth the wait, here are your presents!

"Dean!" 

Castiel stood slightly to the side and watched as a tall man engulfed Dean in a rather large hug. Castiel recognized Sam from the picture at Dean's work, although he seemed much bigger in real life. In fact, he was just basically massive, and Castiel began to wonder how he even fit into the house. 

Jess appeared in a doorway, leaning against the doorframe slightly and smiling brightly. "You're early," she said happily. Sam released Dean and grinned over at Castiel. 

"Dean speeds," Castiel remarked, getting an elbow in his side in retribution. He held out his hand in greeting. "I'm Castiel. And you must be Sam." 

Sam took his hand and pulled him into a surprise hug. Castiel jumped slightly in surprise, but still reciprocated, albeit slowly. As Sam released him, Jess moved from her perch in the doorway and hugged first Dean, then Castiel. 

"It's so good to meet you," she said brightly, keeping a friendly hand on his shoulder. "I'm Jess, obviously. Dean's told me so much about you." 

"He has?" Castiel asked suspiciously. 

"No," Jess admitted. "But isn't that what they always say?" 

Castiel grinned, and some of his nervousness faded away into contentment. Dean's family really wasn't so bad after all. 

"Come on, let's take your bags up to your room," Sam said, grabbing a duffel that Dean had dropped on the ground. He led them through a small hallway that opened into a larger space, then up a staircase to the left. 

"Hope you won't mind sharing a bed!" Sam said, grinning. Dean rolled his eyes while Castiel internally panicked. He hadn't thought this through, had he? 

"I bet you waited all week to say that," Dean said, pushing past Sam into the room. 

"I sure did," Sam said happily. "Why don't you guys get settled in, and when you're ready, come downstairs and get some lunch." 

"Sure thing, Sasquatch," Dean replied. 

Sam and Jess left, the perfect image of a happy couple. Castiel took the moment to observe the room. There was one queen sized bed in the middle of a room, a door that led to a bathroom, and a small desk in the corner. Dean was already arranging his things around the room. He glanced up at Castiel and said, "I'll sleep on the floor, don't worry." 

Castiel bit back a "you don't have to" and put his bag in the corner. 

*** 

"So, Castiel, what do you do for a living?"

They were seated casually around a dining table, Dean's chair pushed just a little too close to Castiel's. Sam had made everyone grilled cheese (you're such a girl, Sammy) and Dean had to admit that the feeling of being home was nice, familiar, and Castiel was just perfect to impress Sam, Jess, and possibly even his dad. 

"I'm a journalist," Castiel said, taking a bite out of his grilled cheese. "I work at a newspaper."

"What sorts of things do you write about?" Jess asked, leaning forward like Castiel's work life was the most interesting thing she'd heard all year. It probably is, Dean thought, smirking and thinking of Sam's work stories. There was always another boring case along the horizon.

"Oh, I do a weekly advice column," Castiel said dismissively. 

"That's great!" Jess said. "I'd love to read some of your work sometime."

"Oh, it's nothing really," Castiel said quickly. Dean wondered why he was so defensive about his job. Maybe he wrote some sort of sports column and he didn't want to admit it. Maybe he wasn't a journalist at all.

"How's Bobby?" Sam asked before the silence lasted too long.

"Same old Bobby," Dean said. "You know him."

Sam nodded. "He never changes, does he?"

Soon the moved into the family room, where a large live Christmas tree had been set up next to the fireplace. 

"Quaint," Dean commented, taking a seat on the couch and reaching for the TV remote. Castiel followed him and sat down next to him, too close for Dean's comfort, but Dean played along, flinging an arm around his shoulders the way he would if he had a girlfriend. Castiel nodded subtly, as if Dean was a pupil taking cues from his teacher. Dean supposed that wasn't too far off.

"Jess insisted on a live one," Sam said, sitting across from Dean. "I was ready to dig out the plastic one we used to set up in the motel rooms."

"Scrooge," Jess teased, sitting next to Sam. 

Dean turned on football, and Castiel shifted into a more comfortable position beside him. Dean figured he could get used to this.

***

Castiel thought Dean was falling into the boyfriend role rather nicely, all things considered. Sam and Jess seemed convinced, at least, and that was all that really mattered. Even Castiel was convinced, to some degree, and for a few moments, he even forgot that it was all fake.

He did not think about the fact that it was a sad revelation.

Dean was doing so well, he figured he should lay it on a little thicker.

"I'm so glad you guys are being so supportive of Dean," Castiel said warmly as soon as Dean left for the bathroom later that night. "It's been so hard for him."

Sam and Jess exhanged a look and smiled uncertainly. "I can see how it would be," Sam said quietly. "He's always been so defensive when it comes to dating. Now it all makes sense."

"He's been so nervous," Castiel confided, faking a worried look. "Finally I told him he should just call you and tell you. I told him it would all be fine."

Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel saw Dean return. He had a murdurous look on his face aimed directly towards Castiel.

"I just hope John doesn't freak out," Jess said sadly.

"He better not," Castiel said, sending the smallest smirk towards Dean, standing in the doorway. "My Deanie has made so much progress."

Dean came storming in at that, only barely controlling his pace. He had a bright, fake smile on his face as he reached for Castiel's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on, sex kitten, we really should be getting to bed."

Castiel only barely withheld a snort and felt blood rush to his cheeks. Sex kitten? 

"Dean, I've never seen you go to bed before eleven," Sam said accusingly.

"My angel needs his beauty sleep, don't you?" Dean grinned even wider and Castiel had no choice but to nod obligingly. Dean dragged him by his hand out of the room and up the stairs, stopping only once they were in the safety of their room. 

"What the hell, dude?" Dean asked, crossing his arms.

"I was just trying to make it all more convincing," Castiel said innocently.

Dean stared at Castiel. 

Castiel stared at Dean.

Dean had so many freckles. Castiel wondered how long it would take him to count them all. 

"I'm going to bed," Dean said suddenly, turning to his suitcase. "I call the bathroom first."

He came out a few minutes later wearing nothing but a T-shirt and boxer shorts. Pulling a few blankets and a spare pillow off the bed, he resolutely created a make-shift bed on the ground and closed his eyes immedietly.

Castiel dug a book out of his bag and turned on the lamp next to the bed, preparing to settle in for a long night. 

John would arrive the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if there are any weird formatting/spelling errors, I am temporarily using a tablet to write this as my computer decided to quit last night. No worries, though, I will keep writing no matter what!


	9. Playing The Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, the first thing I owe you is an apology. I was supposed to update yesterday, according to my "finish by christmas" schedule, and I was going to, but I was emotionally distressed by the newest episode. 
> 
> But, anyways, here I am with a new chapter! Yay! I hope no one minds that John is a total dick in this and he gets bashed quite a bit, sorry. I just really can't find it in my heart to write a nice understanding John. 
> 
> Anyways, chapter. I hope you like it!

Dean woke up slowly, listening to the faint sounds of water running and the world waking up downstairs. He rolled over, groaning as the side effects of sleeping on the ground caught up with him. He allowed himself a minute to regret this whole plan, then flipped on to his back and glanced up at the bed.

It was empty, which meant Castiel must have been in the shower. Dean's mind wandered absently - what would Cas's hair look like wet? What was he doing in there, underneath the hot spray of the shower head? What did Castiel's long sleeved shirts and trenchcoat hide?

The water shut off, and so did Dean's thoughts.

The bathroom door opened, and Castiel came wandering out wearing only a towel. Dean didn't mean to look, but he did anyways. Castiel wasn't as scrawny as he looked, as Dean came to realize.

Castiel looked over to him and Dean closed his eyes again, pretending to be asleep. After the sound of rustling for a few moments, the light shut back off and the door opened and closed softly, leaving Dean alone to his thoughts. Dean didn't like his thoughts very much so he pulled himself off up the ground and got into the shower, turning the water on cold.

He figured playing the part of a boyfriend was just getting to him. A week from now, it would all be over.

He had other things to worry about, anyways. John was coming today.

Dean's dad had never exactly been winning the "father of the year" awards, but he had never been all bad, either. When he had been younger, Dean had imagined John as a sort of hero, battling unseen monsters and avenging his wife's death. Dean just had to pick up after him, because that was his job, along with taking care of Sam.

But Dean was a grown-up now, and he could accept that his dad just really wasn't there for his childhood. He spent most nights passed out on the couch, and most days gambling and getting drunk. He was judgemental, and self-righteous, and just generally a dick. But he was still Dean's father. He was still family.

Most of all, Dean was a fully-grown man, and he refused to be scared of him.

Once he was dressed, he went downstairs, following the smell of breakfast into the kitchen. Castiel and Jess were seated at the counter on barstools and Sam was standing next to the stove. Castiel's hair was still wet, flat against his head instead of its usual fluffy style. Dean found himself doing a small doubletake, because instead of his usual suit, Castiel was wearing dark jeans and a red sweater with a reindeer on it.

Castiel looked up and saw Dean looking at it, then shrugged. "It's the christmas spirit, Dean," he said seriously.

Dean laughed, and Castiel smirked slightly. Jess looked between the two of them, smiling like she knew something Dean didn't, but Dean ignored her, instead walking around and sliding onto a stool next to Castiel. Castiel reached for his hand, then, and Dean couldn't exactly pull it away because Jess was sitting right there. So he held on to it, absently running small circles with his thumb on the back of Castiel's hand.

He didn't miss Castiel's small smile.

It was just playing the part, of course.

***

John arrived at noon.

Noon as in 12:00 exactly, not a second off.

Dean and Castiel were sitting on the couch, playing Mario Kart Wii. This was following the suggestion of Jess, who had gotten tired of hearing Dean complain about being bored every five minutes. At first it was a good idea, but it soon detiorated into Dean and Castiel shouting abuse at each other and the TV from opposite ends of the couch.

"Damnit!" Dean yelled as his car, driven by Bowser, dove off a cliff. "Who sent that shell?"

Castiel tried to hide a smirk but Dean caught it, looking over at him with a betrayed face. "How dare you?" he asked, apparently outraged. He then threw down the controller and pounced at Castiel, trying to grab his controller. Castiel struggled and rolled over, sending them both to the ground and leading to what must have been the only wrestling match Castiel had taken part in for years.

It ended when Castiel was flat on the ground, wrists pinned above his head by Dean's hands. There was a sudden still in both of them, tension visible in the air as they stared at each other. Castiel's breath evened but his heart rate sped up and his mouth hung open slightly.

Then Dean chuckled, shifting but not moving, and oh god he was straddling Castiel's legs. Castiel managed a small laugh in return, ignoring the weight of Dean on top of him, and his face so close to his.

"Now my back hurts worse," Dean complained softly, whispering for no good reason.

"You didn't have to sleep on the floor," Castiel said impusively. Green eyes met his and Dean stilled, licking his lips absently.

"Didn't I?" Dean asked, leaning forward just slightly, just enough that there was only inches between them, and Castiel wanted to close the distance so badly, but Dean wouldn't want it. Would he? Dean kept moving, kept getting closer, and closer--

And that was when John Winchester walked confidentely through the front door.

Dean's reaction was instantaneous, scrambling off of Castiel like nothing had happened. He looked a bit shocked, but soon wiped it off his face, replacing it with a hard, cold look that Castiel had never seen him with before. Castiel watched as Dean straightened himself out, made himself taller and bigger and Castiel wondered just what type of man he was about to meet.

Castiel hauled himself off the ground and took a good look at who could only be John Winchester. He was tall, back straight, and looked every bit as intimidating as he sounded. He looked sober, although there was deep circles underneath his eyes that told their own stories.

"Dean," John said as greeting. Dean smiled, walking forward towards his father slowly, almost catiously.

"Hey, dad," he said. Then John pulled Dean in for a hug, and though it was brief, Castiel thought that at least John didn't seem completely heartless.

John pulled away and his eyes landed on Castiel, staring at him as if he could get his life story that way. "And this is...?"

"Dad, this is Castiel," Dean said, unwavering, "my boyfriend."

John arched an eyebrow. "Right."

Castiel walked forward and held out his hand. "Very nice to meet you, sir."

John evaluated him slowly, then looked back to Dean, scowling and ignoring his hand. "I wish I could say the same," he muttered bitterly. Castiel felt Dean tense beside him, and he reached for his shoulder, attempting to calm him and avoid a conflict. Dean shifted away and almost imperceptibly stepped in front of Castiel, like he could protect him from John's gaze.

"I see you're sober again," Dean observed coldly. "How long as it been? A day or two?"

"Three," John argued. "And I did it so I could meet your girlfriend."

"Well, you're meeting my boyfriend instead," Dean said. "Got a problem with that, sir?"

***

"Castiel, why don't you give me a moment with my son?"

Castiel shifted beside Dean uncomfortably but nodded, and Dean felt his warmth leave from his side. It was ridiculous, but Dean wished he hadn't agreed. He watched him leave bitterly. Dean wanted Castiel to stay.

As soon as Castiel was through the door, John asked, "Dean, is this the way I raised you?"

Dean whirled back towards his father. "What do you mean, is this how you raised me? You didn't raise me!"

"You should have told me you were a freak!" John said wildly. "We could have gotten you help! We could have fixed this."

"Dad, do me a favor and shut the fuck up," Dean yelled.

John froze, sizing up Dean carefully. "What did you just say to me?"

"Being gay doesn't make me a freak," Dean said calmly, trying to keep all of his rage inside of him. "It just means I love Castiel!"

John went silent. A moment later, he said, "You think you're in love with him, then?"

"I think I am, dad," Dean said. "And you can either accept it or get the hell out."

John Winchester nodded, then turned and walked out the doorway.


	10. Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my dear, wonderful readers, you have no idea how much you have brightened my week. I got so much positive feedback on the last chapter, it was overwhelming! Here's to all of you, and the motivation all of you give me.
> 
> I think you're gonna like this one guys, I really think you will. Here's a chapter, just for you.

Castiel heard the slam of the door as John left, but he remained frozen, ear pressed against the kitchen door.

Acting, he reminded himself. It's an act.

Why would Dean risk his relationship with his father instead of just making Castiel leave? Why had he made it sound like Castiel was more important than Dean's own family?

"Cas?"

Dean's voice was steady, and softer than it had een moments earlier. Castiel took a deep breath and stepped back into the room taking in Dean, still standing in the middle of the room, staring at the doorway. He wordlessly walked up to him, hesitantly putting his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean allowed it for a moment, then shifted, shrugging it off and heading for the couch.

"How much did you hear?" Dean asked.

"All of it," Castiel said after a moment's hesitation. "That was... um, good acting."

He expected some kind of snarky comment, or a joke, or something, but Dean only shrugged. "He'll be back," he said a moment later. "As soon as he calms down he always comes crawling back."

Castiel could have said a thousand things, but instead he just said, "I'm sorry."

"He's always been a dick," Dean said, now smiling and retrieving his wii remote. "Come on, if I remember correctly I was kicking your ass at this race."

"Whatever, you... assbutt," Castiel mumbled.

Dean smirked at him, and Castiel felt his insides tighten in a way that wasn't entirely from embarassment. Dean being annoying was absolutely not cute, it was just... endearing. In a friendly sort of way.

Castiel was so screwed.

***

When Sam and Jess finally came back from their "last minute Christmas shopping" (aka getting a present for Castiel, now that they knew him), Sam walked in wearing bitchface #12, which loosely translated into "I think you did something but I'm not sure I blame you."

Dean and Castiel had migrated closer together and had turned off the wii and had switched to cable. Dean had started out on football, but Castiel had hijacked the remote from him, switching it to, of all things, the Hallmark channel. A sappy Christmas movie was playing, and Dean argued, but not as much as he could have. Not as much as he would have with someone else.

"This is ridiculous," Dean was saying as the front door opened. "Jesus, Cas, this is terrible. No one says things like that in real life."

"Just because you're terrible at expressing feeling doesn't mean others are," Castiel retorted, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I like this one. It's cute."

"Cute?" Dean huffed. "You're such a chick, Cas."

"Dean," Sam said from behind the couch, and Dean turned around a smirked.

"Back from your shopping spree, Samantha?"

Sam rolled his eyes and continued, "Dean, I got a text from dad saying that he got here, but that he was going 'out.' What did you do?"

Dean grimaced and collapsed back into a sitting position on the couch. "Nothing, Sam, you know how he is. He just wanted a drink, and the beer in the fridge wasn't good enough for him."

Castiel arched an eyebrow at Dean, speculative as if he could figure out exactly what Dean was thinking just by giving him that look, and Dean couldn't help a small smile in his direction. Sam interrupted the moment, however, by turning off the TV and standing in front of the two of them, like a parent about to scold their children.

"Dean, something happened," Sam demanded. "What was it?"

Dean shrugged. "It's not a big deal, Sam, we just had a disagreement. I told him that if he didn't like my choices he could leave."

Sam switched to bitchface #4 ("I know you're lying Dean") and looked at Castiel instead. "Was this about... you, Castiel?"

"Yes," Castiel said. "But Dean handled it responsibly, I believe."

"Traitor," Dean muttered. "I set him straight, and that's what's important, okay?"

"Dean," Sam said softly, "I'm proud of you, for standing up to him."

"Oh, shut up, Sam," Dean complained. "You sound like you're straight out of that stupid Hallmark movie."

"You were watching a Hallmark movie?" Sam asked, suddenly interested. He sat down in the armchair and turned back on the TV, grinning like a schoolgirl. Dean rolled his eyes and rested his arm across Castiel's shoulders, the action coming naturally rather than forced.

***

The second time John arrived, it was at midnight. Not exactly midnight, mind you, it was around 12:03. He stumbled in through the doorway, obviously drunk and disoriented, and Castiel hoped that he hadn't accidently crashed into anyone on the drive here. Sam and Jess had retired to their bedroom moments before, and Dean and Castiel had been headed to their own, only staying behind to finish up their drinks.

"Oh, so you decided to come back, did you?" Dean asked, barely looking up from his bottle of beer.

John started towards him, then tripped over a sidetable, knocking over a lamp and ending up sprawled on the floor. Dean huffed, but went to help him up anyways, Castiel right behind him, willing to help where he could. Once he was back on his feet, John, snapped, "Get off me," at which point Dean raised his hands in the air and backed away from him.

"Look, I don't approve of you and your..." John disgustedley looked between Dean and Castiel, "...choices. But you're family, so I'll put up with it. So just don't... flaunt it around, or anything."

"All due respect, sir," Dean said, the perfect image of a soldier, "But I'm going to do whatever the hell I want to."

With that he turned, grabbed Castiel by his reindeer sweater, and kissed him on the lips.

Castiel's initial thought was "what the hell," but his second thought was about Dean's lips, soft but insistent, and his tongue, running along the seam of Castiel's mouth until he opened it. Castiel's arms wrapped around Dean's neck and their noses bumped into each other, but it was okay because so did their tongues, soft and hot and so wonderfully Dean.

And then Dean pulled away, gave Castiel a somewhat sorry look, then turned triumphantly to his father. John looked speechless, and absoluetly furious, but Dean only grinned and said, "I think you know which room is yours, dad, so I'll leave you to it."

Castiel tried to remain calm but a certain part of his body was showing defnite excitement and he only hoped Dean didn't notice when he turned and dragged Castiel up the stares by his arm. The reached their room and Dean slammed it shut behind him, resting against it for a few seconds. Then a wide grin broke out across his face and he laughed, eyes gleefully meeting Castiel's.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "But did you see the look on his face?"

Castiel smiled back, wishing he could kiss Dean again but thinking that the opportunity would never come. "Nothing to apologize for, Dean."

They each got ready for bed, but before Dean could retrieve his pillow and blanket, Castiel stopped him.

"Look, Dean, you don't have to..." Castiel stuttered. "You can, um. We can share the bed."

"Cas, it's no big deal, really," Dean protested.

"And neither is this," Castiel assured him. "Come on, it's big enough for two."

Castiel figured Dean really only agreed because he was tired and somewhat drunk, but he agreed nonetheless and climbed into bed next to him, settling on the very edge of the other side of the matress, Castiel did likewise, making as much space as possible between them.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean said quietly, turning off the lamp beside the bed. "For everything, I mean. You're an awesome fake boyfriend."

"You're not too bad yourself," Castiel whispered minutes later, but Dean had already dropped into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my Dean and Sam, you little stalkers.


	11. Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, friends! 
> 
> You have no idea how much I love all of you. Especially those of you that comment regularly--know that I have probably fondly memorized your username and speak of you like I know you personally. 
> 
> Also, just in case any of you are interested, DeadInside's fanfiction has taken quite the turn and I am actually in it! Go read it and give her love because I love her and you should too:) It's called You And Me Are For Eternity (Literally)
> 
> Okay, now that we're done with advertisements, here's a new chapter!

Around 3 am, the heater turned off. Dean just barely gleamed the surface of consciousness, fumbling blindly for blankets and muttering about Sam and his shitty ventilation system. He was migrating to the center of the bed when he remembered Castiel was still there, a steady, warm presence at his side.

Castiel's arms reached out of nowhere, settling over Dean and dragging him closer. Dean's instincts took over and he resisted wildly, scooting back to his side of the bed until he was out of Castiel's reach.

Castiel scooted closer, and Dean heard him whisper tiredly, "Body heat, Dean."

Dean turned on his side to face Castiel. "Cas," he began, but Castiel interrupted him.

"Dean, it's freezing," Castiel said, putting his arms around Dean and pulling him back towards his chest. "Go back to sleep."

Dean twisted into a more comfortable position, too tired to protest. He didn't know how he could ever sleep like this, suffocated by Castiel, and his warmth, and the faint scent of the stupid fruity bodywash that Sam had probably picked out...

"Dude, I never guess you were the little spoon."

Dean jolted out of sleep, still wrapped up in Castiel and much more comfortable than he'd have liked to admit.

"What are you doing in here, Sam?" Dean muttered, his face buried in a pillow. "Fuck off."

"I believe we slept in," Castiel said, his voice deep and right next to Dean's ear. 

Dean realized in that moment exactly where he was and jerked away from Castiel quickly, glaring at Sam resentfully. "It must be like, 8, Sam, come on."

"Dean, it's noon," Sam said, smirking.

"Fuck off," Dean said again, rolling out of bed and staggering to his feet. He stubbornly ignored Castiel and Sam and headed directly for the shower.

He'd kissed Castiel last night.

Oh god, he's kissed Castiel last night. What had he been thinking? And this morning, Dean had been... cuddling, for god's sake. Dean was a man! He didn't cuddle! Especially not with other men! 

So Dean had a soft spot for Castiel. It didn't matter. There was only a few days left, and then Castiel would be out of his life forever, just like every other broken relationship Dean had ever had. Then Dean could go back to fixing cars and picking up chicks at the bar, and everything would be normal again.

Castiel may have been the exception to Dean's lifelong question for women, but it didn't really matter, did it?

Dean didn't have a chance, anyways.

***

Castiel dozed for another few minutes until Dean was dressed and out of the shower, and then got ready himself, puttting on another warm christmas-themed sweater. Dean didn't make eye contact with him as he made his way out of the room, mumbling something about seeing what was wrong with the heating system. 

Castiel supposed he probably deserved it. He had forcefully wrapped his arms around Dean in the middle of the night after all. Dean probably thought he was a maniac, or psychotic. Dean would probably never look at him the same way again. 

Castiel went downstairs, only to find it emtpy except for Jess, who had spread out boxes and wrapping paper across the living room.

"Good morning," Castiel said, sitting down next to her on the floor.

"Good afternoon," she responded distractedly.

"Where did everyone go?" Castiel asked.

"Oh, they're trying to figure out what happened to the heater," Jess said. "They're too stubborn to call professional help."

"I bet they can figure it out," Castiel said, thinking of Dean and his cars.

"You have more faith than me," Jess said, smirking. "I'm just finishing up wrapping presents, I always put it off until I have no time left to do it."

"I could help, if you want," Castiel offered.

"Alright," Jess said, handing him a box and a roll of sparkling wrapping paper. "See if you can't handle that."

For a few minutes the worked in companionable silence. Then, Jess paused, looked up at Castiel, and asked, "Are you in love with Dean?"

Castiel's hand slipped and he ripped a huge tear in the piece of wrapping paper he was holding. His eyes widened and he looked up at Jess, like a deer caught in healights. "Well, I, um," he stuttered. 

"It's okay," Jess said gently. "I know you aren't actually dating."

For a second Castiel stayed frozen, then he sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Shit."

"Don't worry, you were totally pulling it off," Jess assured him. "It's just, well, this morning this girl named Fate showed up at our door asking for you."

"How did she know I was here?" Castiel complained. 

"Only I know," Jess said. "And I won't tell the others. You don't seem like the cheating type, so I'm going to assume this was all a gig."

"It was," Castiel said quickly. "I swear, I would never do that to anyone - especially not Dean. She broke up with me, last week, and Dean needed someone, and so we just, I don't know, it was crazy -"

"Cas,"Jess interrupted. "I understand."

"I promise we weren't going to - wait, what?"

"I get it," Jess said. "I was being pushy to Dean, and I'm sure you have your own reasons. It was just a business deal, wasn't it? Except it doesn't seem that way with you."

"I don't know what you -"

"Cas," Jess said, giving him what must have been her best "don't bullshit me" face.

"It doesn't really matter," Castiel said, sighing. "Dean's straight."

"Is he?" Jess asked suspiciously. "I seem to remember hearing about a makeout session last night."

"That was just a show for John," Castiel protested.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Jess said. 

"Whatever," Castiel said, shifting awkwardly. 

"Tell you what," Jess said. "I'll tell you the surefire way to his heart."

"Oh, and what is that?" Castiel asked, rolling his eyes.

"Pie," Jess said, smiling. "And we're going to use that to our advantage. Come on."

Castiel slowly got to his feet and followed Jess curiously, because honestly, whatever it was, it couldn't hurt, could it?

***

"Oh my god, Cas, this is delicious," Dean said, moaning around another forkful of apple pie appreciatively. 

Castiel and Jess exchanged suspicious looks. They had been acting weirdly all day, and Dean was too scared to ask what it was about.

"I'm glad you like it, Dean," Castiel said, smiling like Dean's liking of his pie was his whole purpose in life.

"I'm serious Cas," Dean said. "Best. Ever."

Then, throwing a smirk at John, Dean leaned in and pecked Castiel on the lips, just to piss the old man off. John huffed and looked away and Dean smirked triumphantly. 

He might as well enjoy this while he still could, after all.

That night, Dean and Castiel slept in the same bed again. The heater wasn't broken anymore, but that didn't stop Dean from using the excuse that he was cold to lie just a bit too close to Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have about three more chapters planned. Exciting, huh? I think I'll miss all of you once I'm finished. ^.^


	12. Putting on a Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear, wonderful readers.
> 
> Every time I post a new chapter I am astounded by all of the wonderful people who take the time to read through this silly little fanfiction. Getting a comment simply never gets old! I'm so grateful for all of you.
> 
> Shout out to Sam and Dean, without whom I simply would not survive.

 

The second morning Castiel woke up entirely too close to Dean, he was sure that it wasn't his fault. Mainly because this time Dean's arms were wrapped around him instead, resting interlocked on Castiel's stomach. Castiel figured it was because when Dean usual slept with someone else, it was a woman, and he probably naturally gravitated into this position. For a few moments, Castiel let himself believe he was waking up on a normal morning, wrapped up in Dean and that he would never have to wake up any other way again. 

Perhaps Jess was right, after. Maybe the pie had worked.

Castiel rolled his eyes at himself and gently removed Dean's arms from his torso. Regretfully he climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Dean. For a moment, he simply stared at the other man, watching as his arms curled up into himself, his head shifting just enough to give Castiel a perfect view of Dean's freckles. His hair was pushed up in an adorable way against the pillow and his toes peeked out of the end of his blanket. 

Castiel's hand reached out instinctively, but he stopped himself before he could smooth down Dean's hair; instead, he adjusted Dean's blanket so he was completely covered and stepped back. 

"The hell are you staring at me for, man?" Dean suddenly muttered, rolling onto his stomach and digging his face into the pillow. "'S kind of creepy."

Castiel jumped back, face heating up at being caught in the act. "Go back to sleep, Dean," Castiel said quickly. 

Castiel got dressed and went downstairs. fishing his phone out of his pocket. There were two missed calls from Fate, and one unread text message.

He stuck his phone back in his pocket and made some coffee. He found a note on the counter saying that Jess and Sam had gone out for a jog (Castiel imagined Dean's inevitable grimace), and it seemed that John was still asleep, as the entire lower level of the house was empty. For the moment, he was alone.

He leaned his elbows on the counter and wondered what the hell he was doing. This whole thing had been a set up for disaster. Castiel should have turned around as soon as he saw Dean's perfect face. 

Castiel jumped as he heard a knock at the door. Distractedly, he went to answer it, a "no, the Winchesters aren't here right now" resting on the tip of his tongue. However, it died as he saw Fate standing on the other side of the door, her hair straightened and pulled back in obsessive perfection, her brown eyes boring into him.

"Hey, Castiel," she said, overly cheery and smiling in a "I'm about to break your neck" sort of way. 

"Fate, what are you doing here?" Castiel asked bluntly. Fate ignored him and pushed past him through the doorway, inviting herself in. She was wearing a dress suit and black high heels despite the snow. 

Fate glanced around the house judgmentally. "How... quaint," she said dismissively. "What a nice little retreat you've got here, Castiel."

"Fate," Castiel said seriously again. "How did you find me?"

"Oh, it wasn't too hard," Fate said. "Just get that Balthazar fellow drunk and he'll tell you all sorts of secrets. I didn't know you used to play clarinet in high school, Castiel."

"I think you should leave," Castiel said. "You realize we broke up, don't you? Or are you delusional?"

"What kind of stunt do you think you're pulling here, Castiel?" Fate asked, pointing an accusing finger at him. "A boyfriend? Really?"

There was a muffled thudding noise as someone came down the stairs. Dean, still in his pajamas and looking half asleep, appeared in the doorway. "Castiel? Who're you talking to, babe?"

***

Dean woke up to the sound of Castiel's voice, louder and angrier than he had heard it before. Dean had stumbled out of bed without thinking, throwing on some pants and heading downstairs before he even heard the sound of a women's voice. 

"Castiel? Who're you talking to, babe?" Dean asked loudly, peering around the corner and finding Castiel standing by the door next to a rather mean-looking blond chick. 

"Dean, this is my ex-girlfriend, Fate," Castiel said tightly, sending a panicked look Dean's way. Dean took the hint immediately and slid up next to him, throwing a possessive arm around Castiel's waist and smiling tauntingly at the woman. She frowned, glaring at the two of them.

"So this is your new... 'boyfriend?'" She asked doubtingly.

"He sure is," Castiel said, smiling. "It was love at first sight, wasn't it, Dean?"

"I thought it was just me," Dean joked, pressing a kiss to Castiel's cheek, smirking slightly. "I'm lucky you ever let such a man go, Fall."

"It's Fate," she said defiantly. 

"Yeah," Dean said distractedly. "You should have woken me up, Cas, we could've showered together." 

"Well, we had quite the night last night, I figured I should let you sleep," Castiel said, reaching up to tilt Dean's head downwards. Before Dean could react, Castiel was pressing his mouth to Dean's, pulling him closer until there was no space between them. Dean's mouth opened of it's own accord and Castiel's tongue slipped in, mapping out the inside of his mouth.

Their first kiss had been kind of awkward. This one was more experienced and comfortable, growing in intensity until finally Castiel pulled back for air, breathing slightly deeper than before. He leaned in so his mouth was right next to Dean's ear and whispered, "Sorry."

Dean didn't want to let go, and he wanted to tell Castiel that there was absolutely nothing to apologize for, but he stepped back obligingly. Fate looked absolutely furious, and was glancing between the two of them like she wasn't sure which one she should kill first. 

"I think it's time you left, Fate," Dean said after a second, opening the door and not-so-softly nudging her outside. "Castiel and I have a lot to do," he said, throwing a wink in her direction and slamming the door shut. He leaned against it, and for a moment, Dean and Castiel just sat there, staring at each other.

How did they always end up here? Dean wanted to look away, to say something snarky, but he couldn't find the words, and Castiel's blue eyes were hypnotizing. He gazed at Castiel, and Castiel gazed back, and they stood there like schoolchildren with crushes, just staring at each other like there was nothing remotely creepy about it.

Then, Dean broke the spell, and he laughed. 

Castiel's face broke into a wide grin and a small chuckle came out, shaking his body slightly. 

"What the hell was that, Cas?" Dean asked, grinning like a fool.

"That was.... Fate," Castiel answered. "I'm sorry about..." Castiel trailed off awkwardly. "I got a bit carried away."

"No, man, it's fine," Dean said. More than fine, he added silently. "It was worth it to see her storm out of here like that. Did you see her glare?"

"She used to do that all the time," Castiel said, a bit wistfully. "She hasn't changed."

Dean slapped him on the back and grinned again. "I'm going to go shower, man."

Dean took a cold shower that day. He tried not to think about Castiel, and the way he had felt pressed up against him, but it didn't work, and he thought about it anyways.

***

Castiel needed to write his weekly column.

He had gotten hundreds of questions emailed in to them, but many of them were the same old cliches about eating too much over the holidays, or dealing with family members. None of them really seemed right. None of those would impress Dean. Dean, who was "sort of a fan," needed to be impressed. Because even if Castiel couldn't impress Dean, Thursday's Angel certainly could.

There was one question in particular that stood out to him. It was a stretch, and not the usual type of questions he usually answered. He stayed away from love life issues, and classic "he doesn't love me back" submissions, because what could Castiel really say about love? He had bounced from person to person his whole life, and had never found someone he ever thought he could actually spend the rest of his life with.

(Except, perhaps, Dean Winchester.)

He ran through Tuesday and Wednesday distracted, caught between thinking about Dean and thinking about his column. He stayed away from Jess, not wanting to talk about his hopeless infatuation with her brother-in-law, and refused to look Dean in the eyes, knowing it would only end in another staring contest that would leave Dean feeling uncomfortable around him. After their kiss on Tuesday, both of them were disconnected, and awkward around each other. 

Castiel knew he had taken it too far. Of course, Dean had kissed him first, but that had been late, and they had been drunk, and the circumstances had been different. Castiel had been out of line.

So, when he finally sat down with his laptop to write his column, he opened the email he had received on Monday. It simply read:  _Any last minute advice on love this season, Thursday's Angel?_

Castiel didn't even know where to begin. Perhaps he should start with, "Don't ever let your friends arrange a fake-date for you."

Or better yet, "Don't fall in love with your straight friend that you're pretending to date, because it's a bad idea."

After he had written it, he sent it in to his boss, imagining Dean reading it the next day, wondering who the poor sap with the terrible love life was. 

***

Excerpt from  _Thursday's Angel_

_Any last minute advice on love this season, Thursday's Angel?_

_I'm not completely certain I am the person you should be asking this question, quite honestly. This year, I have found myself in the most peculiar situation that will ultimately end in heartbreak, I am sure. However, I will try my best to answer your question._

_Upon racking my brain, the most important advice I could give anyone this year is to be careful with who you invest your love in. Personally, I have found myself in love with a man who is quickly becoming my best friend, and who will forever be unattainable to me. He is more interested in the car he works on than he is in me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This won't be the last we'll be seeing of Fate, folks. She'll come back, and with bigger guns next time.


	13. Christmas Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes out to all of the people that have left kudos on this work. I honestly can't believe I've gone over a hundred! It's crazy! 
> 
> Thanks to all of my friends, even the one that lives a day and a half in the future. :)

Dean woke up early on Thursday morning, sneaking out of bed and heading downstairs quietly. Castiel no longer invaded his space in his sleep, however, so it wasn't that hard to roll out of bed without disturbing Castiel. Dean should have been grateful, but instead he was just sad. He wished he could have enjoyed Castiel's close company for just a bit longer before this whole thing was over.

"Goodmorning." Dean turned to see Sam standing in the kitchen, smirking. "Up to read Thursday's Angel?"

"No," Dean lied, walking past him into the office to turn on the computer.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked, following him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Sammy," Dean said distractedly, logging on to the newspaper website.

"What's up with you and Cas these last two days?"

Dean shrugged, not turning away from the computer screen. "I don't know man," he said. "What do you mean?"

"You just seem sorta... out of it, I guess." Sam said. "Did you guys get into a fight?"

"Sam, we're fine," Dean said grumpily. "Mind your own business."

"Alright, Dean," Sam said gently. "But if you ever need to talk to someone, I--"

"Sam, you sound sappier than Thursday's Angel right now. Shut up."

Sam laughed. "So what does he have to say today, anyways?"

"Some shit about love," Dean said, closing out of the internet browser and logging off of the computer. "Nothing that pertains to me."

***

Excerpt from  _Thursday's Angel_

_That being said, my current situation is better than it was in my previous relationship. My next peice of advice is to those of you who have already met someone. Never mistake money or looks for love. While there are always relationships that have both, a relationship without love is not truly a relationship. It is more of a business arrangement, filled with deals and exchanges._

_Know when you are being used, or using someone, and know when it's time to move on._

***

"Hey, Cas?"

Castiel looked up from his spot on the couch where he was watching another hallmark movie in question. "Yes, Dean?"

"Do you know the guy who writes Thursday's Angel?"

Castiel shifted to the side as Dean sat down next to him. Dean must have read the article. Had he guessed that Castiel was the one writing the column? "Why.... do you ask?" Castiel asked carefully, trying not to sound suspicious and failing.

"I don't know," Dean said, shrugging. "He just sounds like someone you'd be friends with. So, come on, do you know him?"

"Yes, actually, I do," Castiel said carefully. "We're pretty close, actually."

"Really?" Dean asked, leaning slightly towards Dean. "What's he like?"

"Oh, he's um..." Words failed him and he stuttered for a few seconds, he was a writer, goddamnit, why couldn't he think of anything? "He's nice, I suppose. He's a bit of a sap. Real antisocial."

"Sounds about right," Dean said. Then he fell silent, settling in beside Castiel to watch TV. They were planning to start the drive back home sometime in the afternoon, so they could go to dinner with Castiel's family the next day.

"Oh, shit," Castiel suddenly said.

"What?" Dean asked, turning to him quickly.

"We have to eat dinner with my family tomorrow," Castiel said, groaning and falling back against the couch.

"Well, yeah, Cas," Dean said. "That was kind of the plan this whole time."

"I know," Castiel said. "I was just not thinking about it. See, the thing about my family is -"

"What the hell are you watching?" John demanded loudly, walking into the room and sitting in a chair with a beer. "Why isn't the game on?"

"Because we wanted to watch a hallmark movie," Dean said, scooting closer to Castiel and throwing an arm around his shoulders spitefully. Castiel didn't want to enjoy it, because he knew it was only to anger John, but Castiel leaned into his warmth anyways. There would be no shows of affection like this at the Novak house. This would all be over soon.

Castiel didn't want it to end.

***

"Sammy, what did I tell you? I don't need any presents," Dean complained, smiling despite himself. Sam ignored him and retrieved two presents from the tree, handing one to Castiel and one to Dean. Jess smiled encouragingly at them, and John scowled from his spot in the armchair.

"You didn't have to get me anything," Castiel objected, looking at the present in his hands like it was a peice of alien technology.

"Just open it," Jess said, laughing. "It's nothing, really."

Castiel slowly opened the present and Dean watched his hands, carefully undoing the tape. He was just the type of person that refused to rip the wrapping paper. Maybe he would even fold it up and put it in his pocket and save it.

When Castiel finally got the package open, a joyous expression flew across his face. Sam and Jess had gotten him a leather bound notebook, with a leather clasp closed on the side. "Thank you," Castiel said, sounding somewhat amazed. "This is perfect."

"It's just a notebook, man," Sam said, shrugging. "It's nothing."

Castiel looked up at Sam very seriously. "Notebooks are very important to me."

For a few seconds, everyone was silent. Then, Dean laughed slightly. Castiel threw him a warm smile.

"Open yours," Jess demanded.

"Alright, alright," Dean said, fumbling with the wrapping paper.

When he finally opened the box, he stared down at his lap. There, sitting innocently inside a shoebox, was a course catalog for a local community college.

"What's this?" Dean asked carefully.

"Dean, you payed for my college," Sam said slowly. "Now that I have the means, I'd like to pay for yours."

"Sam, I can't -"

"Just think about it," Sam said quickly. "Please."

Dean closed the box. He didn't want to worry about it just now.

***

Later, they said their goodbyes, and Castiel was struck with the thought that he would never see any of these people again.

He hugged Jess tightly this time, a stark contrast to the unfamiliar greeting they had exchanged in the past. Dean was quiet as they pulled out of the driveway, turning on the classic rock station wordlessly.

Castiel didn't mind. He understood, now, that it was all going to be over, and what had happened at Sam's house - well, it stayed at Sam's house.

He took out the notebook he had recived and flipped through it, pausing as a paper near the back fell out.

On it was this week's Thursday's Angel newspaper clipping, and a small note in Jess's handwriting.

_Perhaps you should follow your own advice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to get a bit sad, actually, because I only have one more actual chapter left planned. Also, the mood of this chapter was honestly a bit sad, too. Don't worry, more fluff next time! Tons of fluff and happy feelings and destiel!


	14. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of the people who helped me get here, including those of you that commented, gave kudos, subscribed, or even just read this work. I'm glad you had as much fun as I did with this story.
> 
> I hope everyone here has a merry Christmas!:)

By the time Castiel and Dean were on their way to the Novak family dinner, Castiel had settled into the dark cloud that seemed to hang around him. A night spent back at his apartment (aka without Dean) had left him tired and depressed. He had spent the night despairing over what he couldn't have, and the little sleep he did get was troubled and cold.

He had somehow coerced Dean into a tie, although the jeans had stubbornly stayed. He cleaned up well, Castiel thought, at least before he caught himself and forced his mind in another direction. 

 

"I've mentioned before that I have three brothers and on sister, I believe," Castiel said hesitantly as he drove to his family home. Much to Dean's dismay, they were back in the smart car, cramped and too close for comfort.

 

"Yeah, Dean said absently, messing with his tie.

 

"My oldest brother's name is Michael," Castiel began. "He's the one you'll have to worry about."

 

"In what way?" Dean asked curiously.

 

Castiel shrugged, at a loss for words. "You'll see. My second oldest brother is Lucifer, but the last time I heard about him he was in jail."

 

"Wait, Lucifer? As in Satan? The devil?"

 

Castiel shrugged again. "My parents were weird. Next there's Gabriel, who's a real trickster. Just ignore him and you'll be fine. And last, Anna, who, well, she hears voices in her head, if that gives you any indication."

 

Dean raised his eyebrows but did not comment. 

 

"Just follow my lead," Castiel said. "You'll be fine."

 

"Can do, boss," Dean said sarcastically. Castiel wondered if he actually could. His family could be - difficult.

 

It didn't matter. They were pulling into his driveway already. There was no time to warn him.

 

***

 

"Brother dearest!" 

 

Dean stepped aside as a short man with long hair pounced on Castiel, enveloping him in a large hug. Another man that reminded Dean of pictures of his father when he had been younger stood in the doorway, standing straight and tall with a serious look on his face.

 

"Castiel," the one Dean guessed to be Michael said formally, face stretching into a tight smile."So glad you could make it."

 

"And this must be the missus," the one who had to be Gabriel said, gesturing to Dean. Castiel glared at him before Dean could, but he only laughed.

 

"Dean, these are my brothers," Castiel said. "Michael, Gabriel, this is my boyfriend, Dean."

 

A woman with red hair appeared in the doorway behind Michael. She tilted her head and looked Dean over, then smiled. "The voices like this one," she said brightly. "But they think he could be trouble."

 

Castiel leaned close to Dean. "That's Anna," he said quietly. "And that means she likes you."

 

There was an awkward moment when everyone stood around staring at each other. Finally, Michael clapped his hands together. "How about dinner, huh?"

 

"Weren't going to wait for me, brother?" A voice asked behind them. Castiel and Dean turned around to see a a man with blonde hair, standing next to none other than Fate herself.

 

"Lucifer," Michael said coldly. "What are you doing here?"

 

***

 

"It's family dinner on Christmas," Lucifer said innocently. "Of course I showed up. Look, I even brought a date."

 

"Castiel," Fate said, smirking. "Fancy seeing you here."

 

"Oh, you know each other?" Lucifer said mockingly. "Oh, that's right. You dated for months, and then replaced her with a man expecting to fool all of us over."

 

"Is that true, Castiel?" Michael asked, sounding outraged. Castiel didn't know what to do, as he had never expected to be found out. On impulse, he grabbed Dean's hand and, throwing a look back at Michael, walked out the door. 

 

"I can't do this," he said. " Let's just go."

 

Castiel wasn't sure what he was doing but he knew he didn't want to be home so he drove Dean to his apartment in silence. When the got there, he got out of the car and walked with him into the building. 

 

"That went different than I expected," Castiel admitted, staring at the ground.

 

"Sorry," Dean said. Castiel looked up at him, trying to memorize what he looked like, and the placement of the freckles on his face.

 

"It's alright," Castiel said. "It was always going to end in disaster. Merry Christmas, Dean."

 

"Merry Christmas," Dean said. Castiel turned around and head out the door. There was nothing here left for him anymore.

 

***

 

"Castiel, wait!"

 

Castiel turned, eyes meeting Dean's curiously. Dean walked up to him and swallowed thickly, remembering Thursday's Angel, and the advice he had given.

 

"Cas, I-" Dean stuttered. "I thought you were cool, at first, you know, and then I just - I don't want you to walk away never knowing what I have to say, and what I'm trying to tell you is-"

 

"Dean," Castiel interrupted. "I'm Thursday's Angel."

 

"Cas that's nice and all but I was kind of in the middle of telling you that I -"

 

"Dean," Castiel repeated, grabbing both of Dean's hands. "I'm Thursday's Angel."

 

Comprehension filtered slowly through Dean until in dawned on his face.

 

"You're-"

 

"I am," Castiel confirmed, stepping closer.

 

"And that means you-"

 

 "I do."

 

Dean lunged forward, gripping Castiel tightly and pressing their lips together.

 

"You were just gonna walk away and leave," Dean accused.

 

"You were going to let me," Castiel reminded him. 

 

"Never," Dean pledged.

 

***

 

Excerpt from Thursday's Angel:

 

My last piece of advice is purely hypocritical, as I have yet to follow it. I have heard that it works, although I can not vouch for it personally. It is, rather simply, to admit your feelings to the person you love this year. Take a chance this year at Christmas. After all, it may turn out better than you think.


End file.
